


Returning Home

by dragongoats



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anxiety, Comfort, Demons, Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4101280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongoats/pseuds/dragongoats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevelyan's experiences after Haven leave her a bit shaken, she finds comfort in returning to Skyhold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returning Home

**Author's Note:**

> So, I always wonder how the Inquisitors respond to all the crazy that happens to them. Wouldn't it be nice to see them accept some LI comfort...

It wasn't quite dawn, when Inquisitor Trevelyan and her party thundered up the path to Skyhold. The fortress was quiet— still but for the thrumming magical energy that the entire place seemed to radiate. A sort of tingling feeling that made one smile, warmed to the core, despite being surrounded by snowcapped mountains. This warmth could be felt abruptly upon entering the Skyhold gates. One moment, their furs were pulled up tight along the neck to keep out the biting wind, the next, they were dismounted, hastily unbuttoning the many layers, sweat pooling at the small of their backs.

Inquisitor Trevelyan's lack of sleep and exhaustion showed as she stumbled through the main hall, leaving a trail of clothes as she went. A scout held back, out of sight, picking up the garments, keeping a watchful eye on her. Trevelyan's steps faltered only once, her hand reaching out for a nearby wooden chair to steady herself. She had ridden all night, hard, switched horses part way. She had needed to return to Skyhold, unable to bear the thought of being away from the familiar, comforting smells and sounds, for what would be weeks if they headed off directly to the Western Approach. She would miss the simplest things, the sweet smell of flowers in the garden, the heat of the fireplace, the library and the hours spent poring over books and discussing them with Josephine, snuggled up on a couch late into the night.

Though truly, she would miss her advisors the most, their easy banter, friendship and invaluable insight. They made her job easy, they did the real work, she was just a figurehead, making a decision so others didn't have to. She had all of the responsibility and there were times when it felt to be simply TOO MUCH. When she left she would be relying on brief missives, taking days to receive a response even with the fastest birds. She ached to remain in that war room, planning rather than being out in the field, but that was impossible. The mark had seen to that.

"Inquisitor?" Came the respectful voice of a scout who had rushed to her side. She was sharply reminded of her rescue in the mountains and she refused to be that helpless again. She shook her head, waving off the assistance, finding her feet and continuing on through the hall. Each step of her heeled boots dragging along the stone floor caused a scraping sound— an awful noise that made her head pound.

She pushed through the door to her quarters, grimacing at each laboured step. Her feet felt heavy, muscles aching, her head swam with a thousand thoughts, but she didn't rest until her legs touched the foot of her bed. Lying back, she tugged off the last layers of clothing, and let out a deep sigh. After a moment she groped around for the edge of the covers, trying and failing to cover herself. She groaned, dragging her hands along her face in an attempt to ground herself. She was safe, in Skyhold, she was—

A quiet, concerned voice addressing her by her first name broke through her thoughts, only one person called her that. "... Are you well?" Josephine stood at the top of the stairs, concern clear on her face— lips parted, eyebrows knitted together, her arms lightly hugging herself.

The thin shawl fell from her shoulders as she moved her hand to brush back a strand of hair— a gesture that Trevelyan had noticed she did when she was nervous or worried.

Trevelyan rolled to her side and sat up, her thoughts quieted for the moment. Relief flowed through her, she hadn't expected Josephine to be awake, and she hadn't wanted to bother her until at least sunrise, as much as she wanted to see her. "J-Josie?" Her voice was hoarse, so unlike her usual clear, confident self.

Josephine's face relaxed and she took the few steps to her side, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking her hand in hers. Her expression asked a question—what's wrong, how can I help? But just being there was enough for her. It this wasn't the first time she had broken down like this, returned home a fragile shell of herself, needing the comfort of her bed and friends. The memories of the envy demon, her harrowing trek through the mountains, facing down a darkspawn magister who spat in the face of her faith had left her uncertain, shaken.

She wasn't certain she would ever feel like herself again, or be able to view the world in the same way, the mark, those experiences had changed her. She used to be so angry, at her parents for sending her to the Chantry for being too rebellious, for refusing their idea of how she should live her life. For the Templar order who denied her on the basis that her faith was not strong enough. She had tried to run from it all when the war began and even when she had been named a saviour, but she couldn't quite recall why. She was so central now, making decisions that could change the power structure for the entire nation, it felt wrong to be weak or to run now.

Josephine gaze held hers, her hand gently cupping her face. "You're thinking too hard. It's quite understandable, feeling overwhelmed. You've gone through a lot. We all respect and admire what you're doing."

She nodded, slowly. "Thank you. But I know I can't always run, I just felt this need to be here. Before we headed off to the Western Approach to be gone for weeks, encountering Maker knows what. I needed to feel this small piece of security and safety that this place and you provide." Trevelyan paused, feeling her confidence returning. "I am certain I will feel better after some rest."

"I know you will." Josephine smiled and kissed her gently—lips, cheeks, nose—before pulling her into a warm embrace.

It was comforting, grounding, feeling the woman she loved holding her. Feeling her breath warm against her neck as she hummed a quiet song, hands tangled in her hair, thumbs rubbing gentle circles intended to soothe away the tension and ache. It made her feel for the moment as if all those pains of the past were but distant memories, forgotten. Like she was finally home— a true home. A home where she was accepted, loved, and needed.

Trevelyan felt herself smile despite her fatigue and let out a sigh, closing her eyes and relaxing into Josephine's arms. She ran her fingers along Josephine's, enjoying the strange and peaceful moment that seemed like it could last forever.

As she felt herself drift off to sleep she thought to herself that Thedas would just have to be patient and wait another day to be saved, she was only so strong.


End file.
